


trying in my way to be free

by agent_orange



Category: Glee
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/F, Marijuana, Shotgunning, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-14
Updated: 2010-10-14
Packaged: 2017-10-12 20:20:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/128663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agent_orange/pseuds/agent_orange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a pool and hot tub in her backyard; she and B make good use of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	trying in my way to be free

**Author's Note:**

> So this kind of got jilted by 2.04, but I was already finished with it and liked it too much to scrap it.

_June 18th, 2012_  
It's barely two hours after graduation and Santana's already got Brittany half-naked and sweaty in the restaurant bathroom. Brittany's already come once, from Santana's mouth alone, and they have just enough time for her to get off again before someone gets suspicious and comes looking for them. _That_ would be a disaster.

"C'mon, B," Santana urges, slipping another finger inside Brittany to speed things up. It's a little bit of a stretch, but that's just how Brittany likes it—pleasure with a touch of pain, which Santana is happy to give her. "Just think. We'll be able to do this all the time now that we're done with school."

*  
 _June 25th_

During the day, Santana works (her dad makes her answer phones at his practice), but she and Brittany have nights all to themselves. She didn't realize how much free time there'd be without Cheerios practice and Glee, but it's not like she's complaining. There's a pool and hot tub in her backyard; she and B make good use of them. If she can swing it, she brings a bottle of vodka from the liquor cabinet.

After, they sneak into whichever house is less occupied and fuck. Brittany can do three or four times in a row without needing a break. Even though she's well aware of it, Santana's always amazed.

*  
 _July 2nd_

Since she doesn't have a job, sometimes Brittany gets stuck with babysitting duty, which majorly sucks. It also means Santana is the one who actually has to watch the brats—freshman year, Brittany fed her goldfish so much it died.

They go to the pool, the carnival, the movies. Santana likes the last one best, because then she and Brit can buy the kids some popcorn and candy, sit them down, and then make out a few rows behind them. People stare, but Santana knows it's because they're jealous, not necessarily homophobic. Which, _duh_. She and Brittany are hot shit. You'd have to be blind not to stare at them.

*  
 _July 10th_

Everything's blurry, and the world's going too fast.

(Santana faked sick to get out of work and now they're on the Tilt-A-Whirl at Cedar Point.)

It's impossible to tell right from left, up from down. A few seats away, a little boy screams. Santana tries to block it out.

(Last week Brittany slept with Mike because she was mad that Santana slept with Puck again; they're allowed to do that, really, but that doesn't mean Santana has to like it.)

She's getting dizzy, and a wave of nausea rolls through her body.

("You were the one who wanted it like this in the first place," Brittany had said.)

*  
 _July 11th_

"God," Brittany moans. "God, _Santana_." It's the best thing Santana's heard all week, and she dips her head to bite at Brittany's neck again. Understandably, she's confused when Brittany pushes her away and says, "Hang on a sec."

"What the fuck?" Santana bitches. "I thought we were working out our shit."

A little bag with a few joints dangles from between Brittany's fingers when she returns. "I'm just going to make it better," she says. "Where's your lighter?"   "In my skirt pocket." Absently, Santana plays with her nipple. "Hurry up," she commands. There's a dull ache between her thighs, and Brittany's affinity for smoking before sex isn't helping it any.

*

_July 11th (later)_

It feels like she's floating, warm and weightless, so Santana has to admit Brittany was right (for once). They're kissing again, and still, and Brittany's tongue tastes like a thousand different things at once. Now, there's no more urgency, but having Brittany's tongue in her mouth is just as good. She pulls away to take another hit, and Santana reaches for her.

"Need your mouth," she says. Brittany just shotguns her and then goes back to regular kissing. Her fingers slip down to the waistband of Santana's panties, inside them and then inside _her_ , and Santana remembers why Brittany likes stoned hookups so much. Everything is slower and more relaxed.

*

_July 20th_

Cheerios preseason starts earlier than usual; Coach Sylvester has five talented seniors to replace. Brittany and Santana go to watch practice one afternoon.

They stand in one of the tunnels to avoid being seen while they scope out the squad. "Her?" Brittany asks, pointing out a tall redhead who does a perfect scorpion into basket toss.

"Of course not," Santana replies. "Coach Sylvester _hates_ gingers. Damn shame, too. That one's pretty hot."

The routine ends snappily, with a few up-and-overs. Santana notices the girl right in front—Quinn's former position. It's some fake-looking bitch who was a junior last year; she's nowhere near as good as Santana.

*

_July 31st_

Thinking about you.

_Weird! I was just thinking about you. It's like I have a fifth sense or something._

It's like a _sixth_ sense, sweetie. Anyway, I'm so bored right now. Entertain me? ;)

_Through the phone? How?_

Brit. It's called sexting. We do it all the time. Like: I can't wait to fuck you tonight.

_Are your parents going to be home?_

No. Duh. I made sure they'd be going out so they won't hear you scream when I eat you out.

_And then what?_

And then we can break out the toys, if you want. We can do whatever you want to. Tonight's going to be all about you, B.

*

_August 2nd_

It starts to pour halfway through the movie. Brittany glances outside and then drags Santana from her comfortable spot on the couch into the freezing rain.

"Seriously?" She tries to cover her hair—it looks _awful_ when it frizzes up—but it's no use. Water runs down her face, into her shirt, soaking her to the skin.

"I love the rain," Brittany says, spinning around in it like she's five years old again.

Santana shakes her head, accidentally spraying water everywhere. "You're crazy," she insists. "Only you, Brit."

On her next spin, Brittany loses her balance and falls, wet grass staining her white dress. "C'mon," she says. "It's nice here."

*

_August 19th_

All summer, Santana's been putting off packing for college. She's totally excited to get the fuck out of Lima and get on with her _real_ life, but there are some things she's not anxious to leave behind. Namely, Brittany. They've been friends for six years; they've been more than that for three. It's a shitty feeling, knowing that she's leaving her best friend behind in a town full of losers. When she graduates, she'll get an apartment for the both of them, but there's nothing she can do for Brittany in the meantime. 

She nudges Brittany awake, saying, "Hey, I need to finish packing. Can you go for a bit?"


End file.
